


Along a Dusty Highway

by tiredwriter



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredwriter/pseuds/tiredwriter
Summary: A little snippet post 2x13, a one-off drabble.





	

Everyone assumed the wrong face was real, and that bothered him more than he let on. Though he was the Devil, it was also a persona he wore. He wasn’t created red eyes and burnt skin. He was created in his Father’s image. What he wore on Earth was closer to his real skin than any guise in Hell. That face was but a tool, a twisted gift from his Father to ensure the guilty were punished.

He thought of his wings, snowy white and glorious, perfect until the day he had asked his demon to cut them off, and thought how absurd they would have looked with the twisted mask he wore in Hell; the twin scars between his shoulder blades were the closest his true appearance had ever come to that visage. Thinking of his wings always made his shoulders ache, and he reached back with one hand to rub the imaginary pain as the other rested on the steering wheel.

He’d lost track of where he was a few hours ago, but the desert stretched for miles around him, eerily bright under the full moon. The wind whipped through his hair and reminded him of flying. His mind jumped from one memory to the next, from millennia to millennia, anything to avoid thoughts of the last few days.

His heart, unlike his mind, was less easily distracted. She had become part of him, somewhere along the way, without him noticing. Somehow, despite the short duration of their acquaintance in the long history of his existence, the loss of her he felt more deeply than that of his wings; not a fleeting ache in his shoulders but a burning scar on his heart. He couldn’t have stayed though, not with the knowledge of her birth pressing in on him. He told himself it wasn’t real but now he wondered if he was wrong.

He took his foot off the accelerator and the car came slowly to a stop in the middle of the deserted highway. His hands dropped from the wheel and he leaned his head back against the leather of the seat, looking up into the endless stars of the night sky. He was suddenly reminded of what it was like to be the Lightbringer, of what it felt to place the stars in the sky. The joy of the first creation. He remembered the pain too, when his Father used what he had done to breathe life into humanity, and given to them the gift he craved most of all - the gift of choice. It had led to the great rebellion, the fall, and his current predicament. He had wanted the freedom to choose, and he was just now realizing that when he got it, he hadn’t been strong enough to make a choice.

_Bloody hell._

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea in my head about Lucifer's "real" face and this is what came out.


End file.
